


Golden Captive

by AntiApocalypse (orphan_account)



Category: One Piece
Genre: Adventure, Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 19:59:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6298210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/AntiApocalypse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crocodile's a slave, Doflamingo's his buyer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Golden Captive

Anti Apocolypse

Chapter One

He had lived there his whole life. His whole miserable, wretched, disgusting, no good, disappointing, terrible, despicable, fucking life. Since he was a child, since he was going into his teens and and now going into adult life. No one would buy him.

Perhaps it was because he was too small as a child, too weak for any service or work, too fragile for beatings when something was not accomplished, too innocent for his owners, his eyes too sharp. He would not be bought.

Perhaps it was because he had lost his hand as a teenager and now had to wear a cheap prosthetic covered by a black glove, he was too weak for labor, too useless to carry anything, too small for the work required, too dirty to look representable, too proud to bend at the will of others, his eyes too sharp. He would still not be bought.

Perhaps it was because he was now growing to be too old as he slowly became an adult, too tall for most tasks, too feisty to get anything done, too proud to bend to the will of another, too aware of his surroundings to be mindless, too smart and able to think for himself, too weak to carry a simple object, too stiff to do anything right, too noble to be looked down upon, his eyes too sharp. No one would buy this rotting crocodile.

Until that man came.

He came in like he was royalty, and he slowly became a colorful headache for the rotting slave. His coat was pink, fluffed with feathers of what seemed to be flamingos, shades covered his eyes, and his blonde hair was spiky, his dress shirt seemed expensive, and he walked without a care in the world. When he came through; people gasped, people awed, people became stupid (as the rotting slave thought). He was just one man that was too colorful for his own good.

He sat a few rows back and crossed his long legs as the rest of his crew, three oth- wait, no there's four other people sitting down next to the storm of abnormality.

The head of the auction house walked out and bowed, a smile on his stupid face simply saying "I'm here to sell you people, nothing extreme, it's not like they're real people anyway" and the rotting slave simply wanted to crack his face in two, see if he'd smile then.

The head man introduced the program quickly before introducing the slaves, his voice boomed and almost seemed to resonate through the walls of the shitty auction house. The older ones usually went first while the newer ones were the "grand finale", so buyers wouldn't loose interest when sparkling newbies went first and grimy oldies went last.

First was a man who had been in the auction business for almost thirty years. The rotting slave recalls that this would be his last chance at getting bought off before he was to be executed. The rotting slave knew that his execution would raise it's ugly head soon for him; maybe his next chance at auction, he hoped so.

The biding went on for a few moments before he was whisked away, screaming and crying as he fought against his chains and binds and begged for redemption. He was silenced later backstage and the rotting slave could practically smell the blood as the old man was killed behind the curtains. The rest of the slaves seemed to have smelled it too as they began to become restless, some even crying and contemplating their life, begging for their wife and kids to be at their side one last time. They probably don't realize that it was their wife and kids that sold them off. The rotting slave thought.

The second to go was a young girl who, believe it or not, had been in the auction house when her mother was still carrying her. She was a beautiful girl; fair skin, lovely eyes as blue as the sea, rich blonde hair, she truly was a beauty.

She was sold fairly quickly for 15.000 Belli. She's going to be raped. The rotting slave noted when her buyer was a male.

The third to go up was the rotting slave himself. He was pushed on the stage, earning a low growl from the slave and a kick from the head man in stage. He was forced upright with a small crack in his lower back. The buyers in the rows in front of him shook their heads at his rebellious behavior and whispered when they noticed how the handcuff on his left hand was placed higher than normal and how he only wore one black glove and how his fingers on his right hand tapped against his leg while the hand covered by the glove remained motionless, not moving at all.

The head man allowed the biding that never would be to continue for a few moments, quicker than the man that had gone first, as he knew this rebellious, dirty, miserable slave would never be bought and he would die at the auction house, a cold blade slowly stabbing through his chest. Not quick like the older man before him but slow as this kid was a trouble maker and there was no doubt as to why no one wanted to buy him. And it wasn't just because of his missing hand.

The moments went by like hours before the rotting slave was kicked off stage, earning a kick back from the slave, visible in front of everyone as he was kicked out of view. The last thing he saw before he was kicked off stage was that damn pink feathered coat. What an eyesore.

The rest of the auction went by smoothly. Five out of the seven auctioned were bought and the two remaining wept and lamented to no end. It was annoying to be frank. The rotting slave was kicked and beaten again later that day, mere moments after the rich people that were once sitting in rows had left. The people who worked at the auction house never liked him. He always coughed up an attitude and whenever he got the chance he would make a sarcastic and bitter insult at the workers. He was despised and bloody, sarcastic and broken, forever a slave.

The rotting slave's beating had ended - more like was cut short - when the door opened. The head man rushed out to tell whoever it was to go away, but he shut his mouth when he greeted him instead. The rotting slave was confused; no one was allowed in the auction house after auctioning hours. The workers were too busy beating the slaves up. And now those rules were to be broken by some mere man? The rotting slave looked from behind the curtain, sneaking a glance as golden eyes examined the empty room.

The head man was smiling nervously and was clearly freaking out. This person probably wasn't even important and yet the head man was throwing a fit. It didn't make much sense to the rotting slave. His golden eyes looked over at the after-hours customer. It was that man with the pink feathered coat and the shades. His underlings weren't with him though and they seemed to be quite the accessory. The rotting slave lingered behind the curtain a few moments more than he should have. The blonde had noticed the golden eyes and mess of black hair behind the curtains and smirked at the rotting slave. His eyes widened and he realized he had been caught and he quickly ducked behind the curtain.

The conversation between the head man and the blonde carried on meaninglessly until the words slipped from the blonde.

"I wish to buy one of the slaves." He said simply with a slight shrug of the shoulders, his feathers moved softly along with the motion.

The rotting slave could see the head man rub his hands together greedily. "Well then, which one would you like, young master?"

"The boy with the golden eyes."

The rotting slave looked up from his dirty lap and took another peek from behind the curtain, eyes wide as he stared at the man. He wasn't serious, was he?

Even the head man looked at the man with surprise. "Are you sure? He is quite the trouble maker. If I didn't know that damned kid for all those years I would've been so much happier." He replied with mock concern. The rotting slave rolled his eyes and huffed, although the last comment had stung a little bit. The head man just wanted to kill him, he wasn't concerned for this strange man, he was just doing his job.

The man looked at the boy hiding behind the curtains as he caught him once again. He took the moment to pretend to be thinking but he was really looking at the bruise forming under the boy's cheek, the blood that rained down from his brow and dripped from his chin, the reddish marks hidden under the handcuff of his right wrist, the bags under his eyes, the purple and black marks that merged with his whitening knuckles, the reddish marks on his neck, and his golden eyes filled with confusion, hurt, excitement, and fear.

"How much for the boy?" The man replied, his gaze shifting back to the annoying man in front of him.

The head man's rosy lips, wet with sweat, confirmed the price for the rotting slave and the man had dumped down a considerable amount of Belli on the stage in front of the head man. Even the rotting slave had to blink a few times just to make sure that Belli was there and existing. The man must've noticed as he smirked once more at the boy as he marveled at how much cash just stood there on that stage.

"Deal?" The head man nodded furiously, kneeling down to collect the Belli in full, taking care of each piece of paper right down to each coin. He eventually called for the rotting slave, too busy to scream at the top of his lungs as he practically worshipped the stage with the pile of Belli on top of it.

The rotting slave took a cautious step out from his hiding spot behind the rich curtains, one leg first and then the other and then his hand came to part from the curtain and the dirty boy stood on the stage before the man who had just bought him. The man smirked for the countless time that evening, almost beckoning the boy to take a step closer.

"Boy, this is your owner, treat him with respect and for once just do as you're told, dammit." The head man barked at the boy as he scampered off the stage and into the area where the many rows were placed, before he stood at the beginning of the aisle between the head man and his new owner. He bowed his head quickly, not really interested in any formalities just that moment.

"It's always a pleasure doing business with you sir!" The head man cried out desperately, picking up as much of the Belli as he could, some stray coins falling and rolling about the stage before pathetically tossing the key to the rotting slave's chains.

The man simply waved a hand, catching the key that was tossed at him before walking out of the auction house, the young slave close behind him.

"What's your name, boy?" The man asked suddenly.

"Crocodile." He replied simply and quietly, blinking as he stared out at the landscape he had long forgotten, soaking the sun's rays in and inhaling deeply. Beats the cramped space of the auction house that's for sure.

"Doflamingo." The man said, clearly stating his own name with a grin.

Crocodile nodded. He really didn't care what Doflamingo's name was, he just wanted to get far away from the auction house. And he would.

"Well then, let's head back to Dressrosa."


	2. Chapter 2

Golden Captive

Anti Apocolypse

Chapter Two

No matter how many times he went over it in his head, he knew he wasn't being treated like a slave but like some distant part of their fucked up family. And he hated it.  
Crocodile's real family was gone, dead if he was lucky. He needed no one and he had followed those rules faithfully, ever since he was caught and sold to the auction house. That damned auction house. If Crocodile's plan followed through and he escaped from Doflamingo; he would burn that auction house to the ground and stomp on its very ashes. He would leave no trace of it behind, not a one.

But despite Crocodile's better judgement, he could not find it in himself to shun out Doflamingo and his lackeys entirely. Being in that auction house with no one but himself for the many years he spent grew long and boring and lonely. To have actual contact, to actually speak out of free will, act out of free will, do whatever the fuck he wanted; that was all Crocodile found himself wishing for every Christmas, every Birthday, every Easter, and all day followed with the entire night.

And now, he had it...

Sort of.

Doflamingo, once they had gotten on his ridiculous ship, told his newly-found "companion" that before anything else dared to happen to Crocodile, he would wash himself. The young boy couldn't help himself and looked up at the tall man confused. No slave had ever been given the luxury of a bath, unless their owner was very generous or just downright cruel when you find out that the water is murky and would only make yourself even more dirty than when you were originally.  
But Doflamingo simply gave him one of his famous smirks and pointed at a door that was positioned near the edge of the wooden wall but not close enough so it wouldn't work properly. Crocodile looked at the door, almost hoping it would burn up if he stared at it long enough. But Doflamingo pushed him toward the door and Crocodile had no choice but to do as his owner asked. The boy took cautious steps before opening the door and having it reveal whatever it was behind it. Crocodile prepared himself for the murky water but all he was treated with was a standard wash-room. Regular size, regular design, regular water, regular everything. No trick behind the door.

This isn't true. I refuse to believe this. Crocodile thought silently to himself as he began to set the water in the tub and he undressed while it filled. Everything that had happened to him that day seemed like a really bad fairytale, minus the auction part. That was very much normal. But the fact that this man with the feather coat had chosen to buy him; some cocky, sarcastic, disobedient brat seemed out of this world. There were two other slaves and possibly more if he had waited a few hours. They would be better choices then me... That's for sure. Crocodile thought again, taking off his glove and the cheap prosthetic underneath it, sinking down below the water's surface, keeping his wounded wrist above the water.

Despite the event of Crocodile losing his hand happening years ago, the wound always stung when placed under water. Perhaps it's because he was being drowned when it happened. Or was Crocodile busy drowning one of his attackers. How many were there anyways? Two, three? Probably not four. Crocodile shook his head as he scrubbed the dirt off of his face, it had been there for so long that it just refused to get off. It didn't matter though. All it was was dirt. No harm there.

It took Crocodile a long time just scrubbing and scrubbing and scrubbing and scrubbing and scrubbing until his hands turned white. The dirt was very persistent, that was his only excuse. But there was still one blob of dirt that refused to let go of his skin. Crocodile got out of the water, dried off and got dressed, wiggled on both his prosthetic and glove and poked at the dirt on his lower cheek. Stupid little thing.

Crocodile walked, almost tiptoeing, towards the door, opened it, walked out and closed it again. He looked around and figured that walking on deck was a harmless act so he did so. Still tiptoeing, the young boy walked over to the railing on the edge of the ship and looked down at the dark water. He never really liked water, then again he never really experienced it either. Growing up in a desert was hard when water was something required to live yet scarce in your home. Maybe that was why his stub of a hand didn't like water, because his brain didn't either.

"Boy." Crocodile nearly jumped before turning around to see Doflamingo, shades on and jacket on, the colorful headache in all his glory. The tall man walked over to the railing himself, setting his elbows on the material. Crocodile just turned around again and looked out at the harbor. "You act like you haven't seen the sea in years." The tall man said suddenly.

Crocodile shrugged. Perhaps it was because he hasn't seen the outside world in years. Not since he was whisked away by strangers, with shackles restricting his every move until his death (which was a very good plan mind you) only for this jackass to saunter over and buy him. "I haven't." Crocodile simply muttered. No use explaining it to him. He wouldn't care anyways.

Doflamingo simply hummed in response. Crocodile simply sighed. It was chilly as the late afternoon slowly turned to night and the pinkness of the bright sky dimmed and the black abyss of night took over. Crocodile found himself quietly rubbing his arm with his only hand, the warmth quickly evaporating from his damp clothes. Doflamingo seemed not to notice and Crocodile took comfort in that fact as he slowly began to pull and tug at the single black glove covering his cheap prosthetic. Sometimes, Crocodile just wanted to rip off that blasted glove, unbuckle his prosthetic and hurl it into the ocean, taking joy in the image of some monster mistaking the blasted thing for food, swallowing it, and die from chocking on it. You may call it cruel, but he prefers imaginative.

"What is this place called, sir?" Crocodile asked through gritted teeth; partially from the cold but mostly out of hate of calling someone sir. Crocodile loathed it.

"Saboady Archipelago." Doflamingo simply replied, a small smirk tugging at his tanned skin. This man was amused at Crocodile's way of asking his question. Crocodile was amused at the image of a dead Doflamingo with a knife in his chest and a gun in his mouth, already fired through his head, on a table.

Crocodile simply nodded his head in acknowledgement as the rest of their time was spent in silence, minus the sound of the soft white hands of the water below caressing the legs of the dock and the structure of the ship and coaxing it into falling and joing the vast, vast sea. The silence was interrupted when a hard voice ran through the air, "Young Master! Dinner is ready!" It said before going back from whatever hole it came from.

Doflamingo huffed and turned around, his face clearing saying that he was angry for no reason at all, walking away from the railing with his hands jammed in his pockets. He paused briefly to turn his head towards Crocodile who was still observing the water and the harbor. "Get over here, boy." He commanded and Crocodile hesitated, going back and forth inside his mind of what the consequences were for disobedience, but eventually the young boy turned away from the railing himself and quickly walked towards the man with shades.

They walked quickly, Crocodile quickening his pace in order to match Doflamingo's long stride. Doflamingo kneeled down briefly before standing back up with the handle to the hatch in his hand and the hatch open, beckoning Crocodile to walk down and never come back up again. The tall man gestured for the smaller to go first, which he did. Crocodile stepped down into the first step of the very short and not necessary staircase and into the long and haunting hallway. It was very foreboding in Crocodile's opinion, dark and long with only a few candles to light the way.

The sound of the hatch slamming shut so suddenly made Crocodile jump and look behind him immediately, only to see Dodlamingo walking down the staircase with a huge smirk on his face. "Gee, no need to be so jumpy, Croco." The taller teased and brushed past the stunned Crocodile to take the lead. The younger scoffed and walked quickly to be at the side of his new owner, not wanting to be left alone in such an unfamiliar environment. Doflamingo paused in front of a door that had people screaming and shouting behind it. Crocodile could faintly recgonize the voice that had informed them that dinners was ready in the mass of different voices. Doflamingo placed his hand on the door handle and slowly opened the door with a loud creaking sound. At that moment, when all the voices had died down and the many gazes from the pairs of eyes from so people were directed at them, Crocodile slowly nudged himself closer to Doflamingo; earning him the feeling of feathers brushing against the back of his bare neck.

Crocodile was a mass of emotions at that moment. Scared stiff at all the people now staring at him and pissed off at himself for actually relying on Doflamingo for mental support. The feathers from Doflamingo's coat were reassuring though, soft and fluffy; he just wanted to curl up in the coat.

The silence was broken when Doflamingo looked at each individual person in the dinning room, the food thrown everywhere and the people looking as guilty as they were. "I see you've started without me." He muttered with a slight smirk on his face as he walked around the long table, Crocodile following quickly, towards the very head where one seat was left open for the head of this fucked up family.

Everyone in the room, almost immediately after Doflamingo sat down in his chair, started their earlier activities; screaming at the top of their lungs, drinking and eating to their heart's content and not having a single care in the world. Crocodile envied them somewhat; how they were free to do whatever, it could make a slave jealous.

Crocodile managed to untangle himself from the fluffy mass of feathers that was known as Doflamingo's coat and sit down at the very edge of the long bench seat. A small girl in a maid's outfit showed up and gave him a plate filled with many foods; meat mostly.

Crocodile wasted no time in ravaging the plate set before him. He had never eaten so much in one sitting before. At the auction house he was given bread and sometimes a live chicken, you had to drink your own saliva for a drink. Crocodile was pleased with this sudden change in his life, even if it was because he was bought by some strange man that seemed to have showed up out of nowhere, Crocodile did not complain.

He ate to his heart's content, although he didn't speak much he did enjoy - although he would probably deny it in the morning - listening to the family's stories of travels and seeing the world and fighting battles and having freedom. Doflamingo seemed to notice every single move Crocodile made, every muscle that dared to twitch and every blink the boy preformed, every itty bitty detail. Even down to the missing hand he kept hidden under the table and the manners he had when eating, even when surrounded by rude and loud buffoons. Every single fact that there was to know about the boy was found during dinner and every single fact that did not show, would soon be revealed under Doflamingo's watchful eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

Golden Captive

Anti Apocolypse

Chapter Three

Once Crocodile had opened his eyes and held back his yawn, he realized that he had fallen asleep on the dinning table. The boy was cold and Crocodile soon noticed that some idiot had left the door open and the cool breeze from the outside world was shifting through the room and making Crocodile colder by the minute, although his back felt almost nothing because of the pink feathered coat that was placed around his shoulders.

The young boy brought his arms high above his head as he stretched before allowing them to crash down back onto the table. He brought the hand with the wooden prosthetic up to knock on his head as it was still drunk on sleep. Crocodile made the knocking motion but nothing came. No wooden prosthetic.

Crocodile brought his arm down only to see that his black glove bade been taken off and his wooden prosthetic unbuckled and missing, leaving nothing but the wounded flesh strangely covered by bandages. Those bandages were not there before.

"Someone's been messing around." Crocodile sighed, already having a clear idea of who it was mainly because he was the only one on this ship that he did know. Unless, of course, one of those damn kids decided to mess around with him while he slept.

Crocodile's suspicions were confirmed when he saw the black glove sprawled out on the table neatly in front of him, a little piece of paper on top it. Crocodile took the paper and read out loud, "'Come and get it. Doflamingo.' Goddamnit!" Crocodile crumpled up the note and tossed it at the wall in front of him.

He needed that prosthetic. It helped fool not only the buyers at the auction house - the really stupid and non-observant ones - but it helped to fool the boy himself and even his body. Of course it didn't fool his body for long as the veins and nerves that once led to his hand were cut off, literally. So the body did what it usually did; be a complete dick. The pains were painful, painful enough to make him cry and want to scream. Crocodile needed to find that crap prosthetic. It didn't prevent but, boy, did it prolong.

So, the young boy collected his glove and stood up, letting the feathered coat that had been covering his back fall off and onto the floor. Crocodile was very tempted to leave it there, maybe throw it in a fire or into the sea. He preferred fire; it was more permanent.

But, against his better judgement, he bent down to collect the coat and once again wrap it around his shoulders, clutching it tight from the inside. Crocodile walked by the long table with the long bench and caught his reflection in one of the leftover plates. His face was bandaged; band-AIDS were over small wounds, a patch was over his left cheek and bandages circled around his neck. Someone really was messing with him while he slept because those were certainly not there before the auction house. Crocodile looked at his wrists, bandages there too.

Crocodile shook his head in disbelief. Doflamingo was probably luring him into a false sense of being safe. He refused to believe this; it was too good to be true. Crocodile decided that he would give Doflamingo a piece of his mind. He walked out the room and down the long hallway, up the stairs, and through the hatch. The young boy was on the surface of the ship again.

Crocodile bent down again, to drop the hatch into its rightful place, Doflamingo's coat touching the floor. That stupid coat was simply too big for him, it dragged around almost everywhere. It seemed impossible for a man to be so damn tall. Crocodile barely came up to the man's chest in height.

Crocodile walked over to the railing; it had become his favorite spot since he got on that ridiculous ship. He noted that there was no land in sight, only water. Crocodile wondered how many days it had to rain just to make this sea. It kind of unnerved him.

"Boy, you're up rather late." Crocodile looked around to see Doflamingo himself, in all his unfortunate glory.

Crocodile shrugged the coat off himself and held it out to the other. "I want my prosthetic back." He said simply, hiding the wounded wrist behind his back casually.

Doflamingo took his coat back with a malicious grin. He took something out of the pocket of his pants. "Do you mean this?" He grinned madly as he held it up a bit too high for Crocodile to snatch it away.

But that didn't stop him from trying.

He reached for the wooden hand with his own of flesh and blood, trying to snatch it out of his owner's hand. Doflamingo, however, saw it coming and did... he did something. Crocodile's hand immediately stopped and simply hung in the air, he commanded his body to move but it wouldn't. Doflamingo kept on smiling, waving the prosthetic in the air mockingly.

"How rude." He mocked, brushing the piece of wood teasingly against Crocodile's frozen fingertips. Crocodile grimaced, not at Doflamimgo's behavior but the tingling he felt behind his back from his wounded wrist. The pain would start soon; he was sure of it.

"If you really want this," the other man held his prosthetic up again. "then come to my room tonight. If you do everything I ask of you, I'll give you back your prosthetic." Doflamingo explained, his voice unusually slow. Talking as though he was explaining the concept of physics and gravity to a fetus that just got aborted.

Crocodile stayed silent, but the desperate look in his golden eyes told Doflamingo that they had a deal. The taller grinned and began to walk away, once he was a certain distance away; the binds that stopped Crocodile from attempting to snatch back his prosthetic disappeared and the young boy fell down from the unexpected detachment.

Crocodile tried to make himself useful, in order to kill time until he had to go see the pink feathered maniac. He mostly helped with the laundry as the clothes weren't very heavy and he didn't need two hands to carry such light-weight objects. He also helped out with cooking - when making Doflamingo's meal be added extra ingredients and more amounts and any moldy food he could find- and setting out the food and plates for when it came to be dinner. Eventually, all that he could help with was done and he was thanked for his hard work. It made Crocodile feel weird when he was thanked.

The rest of the time Crocodile killed was usually spent up in the Crow's Nest of the ship, which was oddly abandoned. The tingling he had felt earlier turned into extreme pain. Crocodile clutched his wrist tightly until his knuckled turned white and he bit his lip so hard to keep him from screaming that it bled. He did whimper, as quietly as possible, and he did cry, as quietly as possible, and he did stay there for a very long time, as quietly as possible. Crocodile did hear the call that dinner was ready and he did hear the footsteps and the hatch closing and opening and the chatter about the boring day. Crocodile did not even attempt to get up. He was too spent from how tense his body had been when the pain came and slashed his pride to bits. Crocodile would not show himself tonight; he was sure that his cheeks and his eyes were red and puffy from crying and he was sure that his bandages were ruined and were soon going to come undone and he was sure that his lip was bleeding for he felt the slow dripping. He refused to show himself only to be mocked.

Someone did come out and call for him but after a while of failure, they went back down and muttered insults about how ungrateful he was. Crocodile didn't care what they called him, he had been called much worse back at the auction house, much worse.

Crocodile could hear the shouts and screams of joy as dinner carried on. Crocodile was hungry but his pride was still there and he would not show himself in his present state. Although, to be honest with one's self, he was enjoying his time on this blasted ship. Almost every other moment, minus the ones he had to spend with Doflamingo, was a joyful experience and it was nothing like what he had planned for his future. Crocodile found the crew strange, not only did they consider each other family but they were just so different. Different backgrounds, different powers, different personalities, different strengths, different weaknesses, different likes and dislikes, and yet they still considered the one sitting across from them family. Crocodile was not jealous of some non-existent family, he was not. But the feeling was nice.

Crocodile sat up from his pathetic position and turned his head over the small space of the Crow's Nest to look out at the ship below him. He turned his head over to where the hatch was when he heard it slam. Doflamingo walked out. Crocodile then remembered that he was supposed to met him tonight. The young boy recollected himself, wiped his eyes and his lip and began the descent down towards the deck.

Doflamingo seemed to have seen the boy and paused in his walk to wherever he was going to wait for him. He was not a patient man but he could manage when he was about to have fun.

Crocodile sighed in relief once his bare feet touched the wooden surface of the deck once more. The descent down was even more challenging with only one hand. The small boy looked at Doflamingo and walked over to him, only for the other to start walking as well. Crocodile stayed a good distance away, just in case something happened that was similar to when he tried to snatch back his wooden prosthetic. He did not trust this man in the slightest.

The walk was short, Doflamingo stopped in front of a door and opened it, gesturing for Crocodile to go in first. Crocodile cautiously walked in and watched Doflamingo shut the door and walk over to a small couch and sit down, crossing his long legs and extending his arms so they circled around the back of the couch. Crocodile simply stayed there, although not for long; the same thing Crocodile was so cautious about happened again except instead of making the young boy unable to move, it forced him to move. So there he went, walking over to Doflamingo against his will, and sitting down next to Doflamingo against his will. The walk controlled by the taller man made Crocodile's wounded wrist come out of hiding and Doflamingo could see the undoing of bandages and when Crocodile sat down, he could clearly see the marks the other's nails left and the blood from his lip and, when he looked up to face the smaller, he could see the bitemarks on his very lip and how his eyes were slightly pink from crying.

Doflamingo's thinking process when Crocodile pulled his wrist back into hiding and angrily said, "Well? What do you want?". The smaller of the two was very uncomfortable in the presence of the taller.

"How did you get into the auction house." Doflamingo made it sound more like a statement then an actual question. At least, that was how it sounded in the ears of Crocodile.

"My parents sold me." Crocodile huffed in annoyance.

"How old are you?" Doflamingo tried again, already amused by Crocodile's actions and responses.

"I'm twenty-two." Doflamingo almost bursted out laughing but he managed to hold it in. Doflamingo himself was almost twenty but was currently merely nineteen. Never before had he seen such a small man.

"How's you loose you-" Before Doflamingo could even finish his next question he was interrupted by Crocodile.

"None of your business." He quickly snapped.

Okay, touchy subject. "Where did you come from?" Doflamingo tried.", somewhat disappointed when Crocodile answered on time.

"Alabasta, it's a desert kingdom." Crocodile muttered.

"Quite a ways from here." Doflamingo noted.

Crocodile merely shrugged. "Is that all?" He asked, ready to get his wooden prosthetic back.

Doflamingo smirked. "Not yet, boy. You need to earn this piece of nothing back."

Crocodile stood up immediately, ready to kick the other in the shin or where it would really hurt. "You said if I did everything you asked, I would get it back tonight." Crocodile spat through gritted teeth.

"But I told you not to ask any questions at the beginning."

"No, no you didn't!" Crocodile yelled at his owner.

"I didn't? Oh, I guess I forgot to mention it." Doflamingo smirked, this was getting to be fun.

"Bullshit!"

"Language~"

Crocodile was not going to give up here but he could hear murmurs and whispers from the other side of the door and it was getting late. Crocodile growled and walked over to the door, pissed off to no end. "I'm gonna get that prosthetic back. Even if I have to kill you in your sleep." He vowed before opening the door and slamming it.


	4. Chapter 4

Golden Captive

Anti Apocolypse

Chapter Three

This was fucking stupid. Why couldn't she just send someone else to that damn flamingo's room. For God's sakes; he's missing a hand! She was the one wearing the stupid maid outfit anyways, it was her line of work and not his.

"Croco-chan~" That goddamned voice had cried out in a pathetic attempt at sounding cute and helpless. "Could you take this," at this she held out a small tray of food "to the young master?"

"No." Crocodile had replied in the coldest voice he could muster.

"Oh come on, Croco! Please?" She tried again, batting her eyes and pouting. What a bitch.

"No, Baby 5. I don't care what you say, I'm not doing it." The young boy crossed his arms stubbornly.

Baby 5 huffed. "I'll find a new prosthetic for you! A much better one then that old scrap of wood."

"No!" Crocodile had had enough. "I am not doing it no matter what the hell you say so just buck up and take it to that damned flamingo!"

Baby 5 flinched at Crocodile's harsh words. He recalled that she never really liked getting yelled at or getting glared at. She was weak and fragile, it was a wonder how she managed to stay on this ship. Baby 5 was a young girl, younger than Crocodile for sure. But, as much as the other hated to admit, she was useful when the situation called. She was smart as well, it just took a while for the rusty gears in her head to turn.

Baby 5 smirked and held out the tray again. "If you don't do this then I will make sure that you never get that old prosthetic of yours back." The younger threatened.

Crocodile growled, snatched the food tray away from her and stormed off, leaving Baby 5 giggling on the deck. "What's so important about that old prosthetic anyway?" She giggled.

Stupid young girls in stupid frilly maids outfits. Crocodile huffed at Baby 5 and her childish attitude. Her and that retarded friend of hers, Buffalo. He hated their guts. He hated how childish they were, how stupid they were, how clueless they were, how innocent they were, how pure they were; they were everything Crocodile once was. The young boy wouldn't call it jealousy, no he would never admit to that, he preferred hatred. But when Crocodile went over it in his mind he realized that they were essentially the same thing. Damnit.

Balancing the small tray in his good hand, Crocodile knocked on Doflamingo's door with his stump of a hand, not really caring about the light tingles that rushed through his arm. But no one answered. Crocodile tried again. Still, no one answered. Crocodile switched the tray's location and balanced it between his forearm and biceps while his functional hand tried the door knob. There was no way he was going back to Baby 5 with his hand and wounded wrist full. The door was unlocked (Crocodile didn't think too much of it as he was on a ship with his trusted crew, there really wasn't a need for locks unless you were a slave who knew no one nor trusted no one) so Crocodile opened it and stepped inside, instantly transferring the tray once again as his arm almost fell asleep at the uncomfortable and sudden position it was placed in.

The room was empty, no sign of life detected under Crocodile's sharp, golden eyes. There was a small desk near the circular window that was filled with papers. There wasn't really any other spot for Crocodile to set the tray down so he moved a few of the papers so he had just enough space for the tray to be set down. A few of the papers fell of the desk so once the tray of food was set down and was in such a position in which it would not fall, Crocodile kneeled down to pick up the stray papers. He couldn't help skimming through the neat handwriting that was scratched into the paper. One was about the politics in Dressrosa, another was about the curfew between toys and humans? Crocodile shook his head at that one and simply placed it on the desk.

One paper, however, caught his mind in particular. It had a symbol on it that Crocodile could've sworn he had seen before. He set his growing pile of fallen papers onto the desk and crammed the paper with the symbol in his pocket. He finished cleaning up and got out of Doflamingo's room, shutting the door when he left and making his way to the kitchen where his next line of duties awaited. He would have to read that paper later, maybe during dinner. But he would then have to take a candle and some matches. Oh well, he'd manage somehow.

His duties in the kitchen mainly included cleaning dishes, assist with making tonight's dinner, set up the table, and take whatever food would not be missed. The last one wasn't mandatory nor was it on the actual list handed to him but Crocodile did it anyway. The dishes were covered in grease and muck from last night's dinner. It was disgusting in every way possible and it was time consuming too. Each dirty dish took at least five minutes and then there was Baby 5 who kept asking questions which took up even more time. Setting the table up for dinner wasn't too bad and making the dinner itself wasn't very hard either. It was the usual roasted meat with very few vegetables along with grog. All Crocodile had to do was roast the meat, except with Doflamingo's who got burned, season it evenly, except for Doflamingo's who got more pepper than salt, and then just assist the cooked vegetables, there was nothing Crocodile could do here so he just assorted them like he did with all the others. Crocodile also cleaned the tools he used before being excused from the kitchen. The young slave looked at the table with the dishes and the food placed on top of it and the table that was about to become dirty and filthy and then he looked out at the almost completely dark sky. He estimated that there would be at least fifteen minutes before everyone came down for dinner as the meat did have to cool a bit and the grog was still being set up by Baby 5, which would take most of the fifteen minutes if she spilled it all while trying to hold her nose at the stench.

This amount of time gave Crocodile the chance to climb up to the abandoned Crow's Nest, which had become a little less challenging, and read the strange paper he had encountered in Doflamingo's room. It was a very nice plan in Crocodile's head and he planned to do everything in his power to carry it out. Especially now that the first step was completed. He had climbed his way up to the Crow's Nest and was now situated quite comfortably. Crocodile tugged the piece of paper out of his pocket and began to read it.

Sir Donquixote Doflamingo,

Today at the auction house we have sold a total of seven slaves out of the original ten. 

Sharon was sold for 15.000 Belli to Mathew Panheel.

Joan Miller was sold for 3.000 Belli to Hora Jaye

Crocodile was sold for 1.000.000 Belli to Donquixote Doflamingo

Hamilton was sold for 10.000 Belli to Pan Kaner

Queen was sold for 32.000 Belli to Yanno Maki

Namo was sold for 2.500 Belli to Ashlynn Ken

Yuna was sold for 5.950 Belli to Linda Mich

Unfortunately, we have had one our slaves die as he has reached the expiration date.

It is a pleasure doing business with you as always, Saboady Archipelago Auction House

Crocodile's owner was associated with the auction house of Saboady Archipelago, the very place Crocodile vowed to burn. Well, that just added one more reason to the list of why Crocodile had every right to dispise Doflamingo's very existence. Crocodile was very tempted to just tear the piece of paper up and leave it there for the wind to blow it away. But he was sure that Doflamingo would become suspicious when pieces of an important paper are left lying at the place where his fuming slave was found last. This was stupid. When Crocodile thought he had finally grasped freedom, even if he simply brushed against it, he was pulled back into reality and stuck in some sort of bird cage. He was no trapped bird. He was a free crocodile that would bite anyone's head off who thought so otherwise. Especially if they're a cocky and arrogant flamingo. Crocodile shoved the paper back into his pocket and began to climb back down to the deck.

Baby 5 was waiting for him below on the deck. "Croco-chan!" She had called. "Dinner is ready." She finished once Crocodile had his bare feet on the cold wooden deck.

Crocodile nodded, almost waiting for Baby 5 to say something else. He simply shrugged. "And?"

"Well aren't you going to come?" She said all matter-of-fact like.

Crocodile scoffed. "No, I'm not going to dinner." He replied.

Baby 5 looked at the older man with a look that told him she doubted that. "And why aren't you coming to dinner?"

Crocodile smirked. "I'm not hungry and besides, if you actually counted the plates you would've known that there is only enough for you guys, not the slave."

Baby 5 looked insulted, which was good, and huffed angrily, which was also good. Crocodile simply shrugged again before walking down and across the deck to sher Dodlamingo's room was. He barely heard Baby 5 yell after him, "Well, what are you going to eat?!"

"You're not my mother!" Crocodile simply shouted back. He took much pleasure in hearing Baby 5 stomp her foot angrily against the wooden floorboards on the deck.

The door to Dorlamingo's room was cracked open ever so slightly. It left a big enough crack for Crocodile to see the area where the desk was; which wasn't empty. Crocodile poked the door roughly so it opened just enough so most of the room could be seen, just in case someone else was also in the room for some unknown reason. Doflamingo was in the room but he seemed to be asleep with his glasses placed on the desk and the tray of food he had left earlier was empty. Doflamingo had a book over his eyes and his chest took in deep breaths, breathe that could only be taken when one is asleep. But, just in case Doflamingo was a light sleeper, Crocodile walked into the room as quietly as he possibly could towards the desk. The floorboards didn't make any unwanted sounds so it was pretty easy to get to the desk without making any noises. Crocodile paused at the very edge and reached into his pocket to take out the folded piece of paper. He unfolded it as best as he could and gently placed it on top of some other random papers, he could see a few that he had to pick up when delivering the tray of food to an empty room. Crocodile mentally sighed and turned around to make his way back outside the room, close the door and make a run for it.

"Oi, Croco, what do you think you're doing in here?" The voice of Doflamingo ran through Crocodile's ears unpleasantly. But then again, he really did hate the man.

"Just here to tell you that dinner's ready." Crocodile muttered. This was not happening. Hell. No. Crocodile had never prayed before, so hopefully he prayed to the right God and he would be able to fulfil his pray and kill Doflamingo with a flicker of lightning.

Doflamingo had sat up, taken the book away from his face (Crocodile could now see it was a book on Alabasta), and had placed his glasses on. Doflamingo reached out and ended up picking up the piece of paper Crocodile had kindly brought back to him. Crocodile figured Doflamingo must've seen the young boy place the paper on his desk through the slight gap between the pages and his face. But then again, the wrinkles did make it stand out from the rest of the smooth pile.

He simply hummed as he skimmed through the writing on the paper, not like there was a lot but the fancy writing did make it seem as though there was more information then there actually was. Crocodile really wanted some sort of gun or a knife even, just something that would've really done the job. All he had to do was toss it overboard from the Crow's Nest, simple as that.

"So," he leaned back and crossed his abnormally long legs, still holding on to the paper "you took this paper because?" He questioned, looking at Crocodile through his heavily tinted sunglasses.

"I saw the symbol on the front and I thought I had seen it before..." Crocodile trailed off a bit. He really did not know what to say that would get him out of trouble so he simply used the truth.

"Why take it?" Doflamingo's smirk grew as he watched the smaller fidget in front of him, a scowl painted across his face.

"I was curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat." Doflamingo got up from his chair and simply tossed the piece of paper down somewhere on his desk, mixed up in the sea of white papers. "I believe you said that dinner was ready?" His smirk still present as he stood before Crocodile, seeking to boast that he was that much taller despite being the younger of the two.

Crocodile simply nodded his head. Doflamingo brushed past his slave and walked towards the door, hand on the handle. Not hearing the door close told Crocodile that he was waiting for him. In such a situation, he had no choice but to answer his owner's wishes. It was stupid. He rather comply to the wish of shooting a bullet through Doflamingo's head. The result at least would've been better.

Crocodile turned around and walked through the door, not stopping for Doflamingo and carrying on past the hatch where dinner was to be held. Doflamingo didn't shout after him, didn't swear after him, not like Crocodile minded. Why would he?

Crocodile walked into the main room that led to everyone's quarters, executive or not. For some reason the carpenter that built this ship thought it necessary to put in a room with no meaning or purpose into the ship. Doflamingo probably didn't mind, he certainly had the cash. Then again, most people do when they auction off innocent people to evil people. Big bucks, people. Big bucks.

Crocodile walked to one of the tables in the room and pulled up a chair. He wasn't one to vent mentally but there wasn't anyone to beat up on this wretched ship. Baby 5 not encounter as she probably would just tell someone and Crocodile didn't even want to think about how he might be punished. So, he just vents mentally. He found himself tugging off the useless bandages he had received when he first got here. But that ended with his prosthetic stolen. Then, he got those stupid pains and got asked a lot of questions by Doflamingo. He didn't get his prosthetic back and then he discovers some paper that connects Doflamingo to the auction house in Saboady Archipelago. And now, Crocodile is fuming. Wonderful coarse of events we have here, simply wonderful.

Crocodile's train of thought was broken when he heard the door open and twisted his head around to see the pink feathered coat walk through the door. Doflamingo walked up and sat down in the chair opposite of Crocodile, once again leaning back and crossing his goddamned legs.

"What do you want." Crocodile didn't even bother making it sound like an actual question, he was in too sour of a mood.

"Checking in on you." Doflamingo simply replied, his smirk dropping for mere seconds when he saw the ripped bandages and the redness on Crocodile's skin from his mindless scratching. His wounded wrist jutted out from his arm awkwardly and it seemed as though the skin hadn't received any medical attention. It seemed infected and the skin was red and puffy. Then again, the auction house wasn't one for medical attention, especially not when it came to the slaves.

"Well you've checked in on me so get lost. Those fools you call a family are probably stealing off your plate right now." Crocodile replied sourly.

Doflamingo shrugged and his smirk gained its confidence. "Oh well, not like it hasn't been messed with already." So he knew what Crocodile was doing to his dinner. Goddamnit!

Crocodile huffed and looked away, absentmindedly flicking at his wounded wrist. "Get lost." He repeated, not caring what the consequences where for talking back at your owner.

Doflamingo still stayed exactly where he was and refused to move. "Do you trust me?" He asked suddenly.

What, was he still drunk on sleep? "No, of course not. Why on earth would I trust someone like you?" Crocodile snapped. He was crazy to think Crocodile trusted the man.

Doflamingo hummed, his smirk still getting bigger and probably his ego too. Was that the answer he was hoping for? That flamingo bastard.

"Just asking~" The other hummed in response. Crocodile so desperately wished for a gun, it was on his Christmas List at least ten times.

The two sat there in silence for a while, Crocodile wishing for weapons and a dead flamingo and Doflamingo just staring out at space. He was great company. The silence continued until Doflamingo suddenly stood, Crocodile jumped slightly and even the chair seemed surprised as it seemed to skid backwards. Doflamingo walked around the table and stopped when he was standing before his small slave. He leaned down slightly, Crocodile leaned back slightly. Doflamingo's smirk just got bigger and bigger, Crocodile was almost wishing it would crack the other's face in two. Doflamingo suddenly got very close quickly and soon Crocodile found himself kissing this man. Kissing.

Crocodile immediately raised up both arms and pressed his hand and wounded wrist against the man's shoulders, trying to push the bastard back but Dodlamingo insisted on doing what he was doing. Crocodile insisted that he back up a million miles. Doflamingo eventually backed, up and stood his full height and just left Crocodile there in his chair, questioning his life.

"Come to dinner with me." Doflamingo insisted. The stubborn bastard.

Crocodile glared at the taller man. "Only if you give me back my prosthetic." He offered, his sour mood somewhat lightened but it was still there.

"Only if you come to dinner with me." Doflamingo offered a hand.

Crocodile sighed and took the taller man's hand, liking the idea of fidgeting what happened mere seconds ago. "Fine."

And just like that, they walked out, Crocodile immediately snatching his hand back once he was up and on his feet.


	5. Chapter 5

Golden Captive

Anti Apocolypse

Chapter Five

When he woke up, his entire body was sore and he was an unfamiliar area with feathers poking at his bare back. His body was covered in marks and his stump was no longer visible. He got his prosthetic back.

The buckle was no longer tearing into his damaged skin but it simply say on top and the bottom of the prosthetic was no long rough and bumpy but smooth and almost soft. He was glad to have his prosthetic back, so very glad. But that didn't change the fact that he still wanted to throw it into the ocean and hope that it would bring her life back. The rotting slave still remembered her beautiful face and kind spirit, even though she was a slave waiting to be bought or killed. Her expiration date wasn't for months but that damned prosthetic brought it up to the next second. Crocodile still remembered her face; so pale with a splash of red as the three bullets entered her skull. She was so lovely.

Crocodile's eyes closed slowly. He was still tired and he had never slept in a bed before, it was kind of nice. The young slave looked around and noted that he was in Doflamingo's room. He vaguely remembered last night, but those memories were enough to inform him what had happened. Besides, the soreness in his lower back and all the marks that littered his body near his neck, shoulders and his wounded wrist were enough to give away what happened last night.

Crocodile pushed himself up and off the bed. He did succeed, but the result was a rather painful, one way ticket to the floor. He hissed at the sharp pain that tore it's way through his muscles and bones. What a wonderful wake-up call.

Crocodile painfully got himself off the floor and he sat himself at the edge of the bed. This was going to be a long day. Crocodile muttered inaudible curses as he lay back down on the inviting bed and curled himself up in the mass of pink feathers that was left behind when Doflamingo left the room. They tickled quite a bit but it was a small price to pay for the warmth they generously offered. Crocodile once again understood why Doflamingo constantly insisted on wearing this coat.

Crocodile closed his eyes again, his lids getting heavy as he drew in a deep breath and let out a content sigh. The feathers felt so nice against his aching body. The boy was being pulled into the gentle arms of sleep; so warm, so comforting, so loving. He was so close to the gates of that wonderful paradise. So close.

Crocodile's eyes snapped open when he heard the door open and close behind the person who opened it mere moments before. Crocodile almost instantly retaliated into the mass of pink feathers, hiding his entire body with the exception of his functional hand which could be seen clutching the coat from the outside. The footsteps got louder as the person got closer. Crocodile clutched the coat with all his might, his eyes shut tight. Before Crocodile could even take one more strangled breath in, the shield of pink feathers was ripped away from his hand and Crocodile opened his eyes suddenly, surprised at the sudden action. The boy's head looked up to see Doflamingo in all his glory.

"Honestly Croco. I leave for two minutes and I find you already making a home out of my coat. You little Hermit Crab." The taller teased.

Crocodile huffed, a faint blush rushing across his cheeks. "Y-you wish, flamingo bastard." The boy snatched the covers that were lazily tossed at the foot of the bed and quickly made an attempt to cover himself once again.

Doflamingo clearly saw through his pitiful actions and grabbed at his wrist, haulting the smaller from hiding. Doflamingo held up his pointer finger from his other hand and waved it slightly. "Tsk, tsk Croco. I can't have you hiding everywhere you go. Where's the fun in that?"

Crocodile growled at Doflamingo's words. He hated the man so very much. "Where are my clothes then?" He demanded. Doflamingo paused a bit, his grip on the smaller' wrist slackened and Crocodile took the chance to rip it away from the other's hand. "If you don't want me hiding everywhere I go then where are my clothes?" He tried again.

Doflamingo shrugged but smirked nonetheless. "So modest." He said simply before he walked off to some dresser near the corner of the room and tossed some clothes here and there, often murmuring that they were too big.

Crocodile took the chance to cover up with the blankets. He wasn't as modest as Doflamingo probably thought, the marks on his body just bothered him. They seemed so abnormal; the dark purples and blues against his pale skin.

Doflamingo eventually found a pair of clothes that would actually fit the smaller boy and tossed them at him, grinning when the clothes hit Crocodile square in the face before sliding into his lap. Crocodile picked up the first article of clothing, a white tank top. He blinked a few times, just to make sure that this was actually happening.

"A tank top." The slave stated.

Doflamingo shrugged once more. "I couldn't find anything that would fit you." He stated matter-of-factly.

Liar. Crocodile thought. He heard the occasional snickers from the man when searching through all of the clothes.

Crocodile shrugged to himself and put on the tank top, then the rest of his clothes. The black shorts were a bit of a problem but Crocodile refused every offer of help Doflamingo gave. Crocodile stood up, still holding onto the edge of the bed for support; his back still hurt like hell. The marks left from the activities of last night could clearly be seen and Crocodile just wanted to take a knife and carve each mark out of his skin.

Crocodile glare at Doflamingo and soon started to make his way towards the door, as painful as it was. The young boy managed to get to the door before his body suddenly stopped. Stupid flamingo bastard and his stupid powers. Crocodile thought bitterly as Dodlamingo cocked his head to the side and smirked, licking his lips.

Crocodile knew what he wanted just from that simple action. But like hell would he give it to him. Crocodile sighed and walked back towards the other man who simply stared at his young slave but his smirk never faltering.

Crocodile stopped before the other and looked up at him, Doflamingo looked down in return. The smaller leaned up and stood on his very toes, clinging on to Doflamingo's coat for a bit more support. Doflamingo, in return, leaned down just the slightest bit so his lips met with the other's, his hand slowly sneaking its way down to Crocodile's waist.

Crocodile squeezed his eyes shut, still not used to this feeling of his lips against another person's. The slave felt something brush against his lower lip and he, with much thought and courage, opened his mouth just a tiny bit. Doflamingo's tongue barged into his mouth, forced Crocodile to take one step backwards from the sudden intrusion. The younger boy shut his eyes tight; the feeling of his lips against another pair was still so strange to him and the feeling of Doflamingo's tongue brushing against his teeth was very weird and the feeling of that goddamn tongue brushing against his own tongue is just strange.

Okay, it's now or never... Yet the young boy hesitated.

Come on, it's nothing too hard... He hesitated still.

Goddamnit Crocodile, you coward! Crocodile sucked in whatever breath he could and bit Doflamingo's tongue with all his might before letting go, he could taste the blood.

Doflamingo, more surprised than anything, released Crocodile and faltered backwards. Although Crocodile's attack didn't seem to anger the other, it came a good amount of time in which Crocodile could stick his tongue out at the other man and run for it, shutting the door behind him, his lower back happy to forget the pain and let him run away from the other man towards the Crow's Nest.

The Crow's Nest was fucking freezing. Perhaps it was the simple clothing he was given; a tank top and shorts, or perhaps it was because Crocodile was no angry at Doflamingo. He slammed his fist down on the wooden base of the Crow's Nest, his face buried deep within his bruised knees. He wasn't angry at anyone but himself, which happened often mind you.

Crocodile glanced down at the crooked prosthetic. He unbuckled it and slid the rough material off his wounded wrist, he didn't bother to place the black glove over it for everyone on this ship already knew of his...handicap. Wood fell against wood and skin burned slightly under the gentle gaze of the sun overhead. The skin seemed distorted, red, puffy and just flat out disgusting. And, what do you know, there were marks here too! Goddamn flamingo. Crocodile's inner vent was interrupted when someone came up and into the Crow's Nest.

"Baby 5." Crocodile muttered.

Baby 5 held a blanket in one hand, Crocodile noted, as she plopped herself down next to the slave. "Here. It's cold up here so I thought you'd want it." Baby 5 said all matter-of-fact like. Crocodile could tell she was doing her very best not to stare at the marks littering his collar bone and shoulders.

Crocodile nodded absentmindedly. Immediately, like two seconds later, Baby 5 had the blanket wrapped around both of them and Baby 5 was cuddled up into Crocodile's side, sapping the warmth outta him. Crocodile didn't really mind, he was too busy thinking to notice.

Baby 5's teeth were chattering and every muscle in her body was moving. "What's up with your prosthetic?" Baby 5 chocked out. Crocodile barely heard it over her shivering.

"A friend made it for me."

"Did a terrible job."

"She was the daughter of a Craftsman, picked up a few things here and there. She knew the structure of a hand very well because she wanted to be a doctor but the human traffickers took her away before she could leave home." Crocodile explained, his turn to be all matter-of-fact like.

"Why did she do it?"

"She was there when I lost my hand, all the slaves at the time were. She felt sorry for me and decided to make me my very own prosthetic." The boy shrugged.

"Is she still there? At the Auction House?"

"No."

Baby 5 didn't ask any further, seeing how blank Crocodile's eyes became told her enough. "Was she good?"

Crocodile nodded. "Very good."

Baby 5 shut up and made herself comfortable next to Crocodile. The boy even went so far as to move his arm so she could receive even more warmth. Eventually, with the warmth and comfort, Baby 5 and Crocodile fell asleep. Baby 5's head rested on Crocodile's shoulder and Crocodile's head rested on Baby 5's. It was a fair trade.

Crocodile was roughly woken by Baby 5 shaking him with no mercy. "Croco! We fell asleep!"

Crocodile scratched at an eye, trying to rub the sleep out of it. "I can see that." Crocodile yawned.

Baby 5 suddenly gasped. "What if we slept through dinner?!" She cried. "Oh no! Come on, Croco! If we did we can at least grab some left-overs before they're thrown away!" Baby 5 practically flew down to the hatch at the speed of light, leaving Crocodile with the responsibility of the blanket.

The young boy gathered said blanket and buckled his prosthetic back onto his wrist. Climbing down from the Crow's Nest was easier with the prosthetic anyways. So Crocodile began the descent down once he had everything in his possession.

Turns out, Dinner was still going on (much to Baby 5's utter relief) and Crocodile was dragged to the dinner table immediately after putting the blanket back where Baby 5 had found it. Crocodile sat down between Baby 5 and Gladius, who didn't seem to mind, and had to share a plate with the young girl next to Crocodile. It was the usual meat with very few vegetables; Baby 5 devoured the meat and Crocodile nibbled on vegetables. Once again, a fair trade.

Doflamingo was there, Crocodile noted, and he didn't seem angered about the whole tongue-biting incident, which was very good.

So Dinner carried on smoothly; a jolly time, some would say. Crocodile did have fun listening to Baby 5 and Buffalo argue over something stupid and how Gladius near exploded when he couldn't take any more, although he was right next to Crocodile so it didn't seem fun at the time. Crocodile chuckled at himself as he grabbed a blanket from the room that connected to most of the crew's quarters, minus Doflamingo and Crocodile (although he wasn't part of the crew). Crocodile climbed up to the Crow's Nest and wrapped up in the warm blanket and fell asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Golden Captive

Anti Apocolypse

Chapter Six

He had arrived at Dressrosa after many days of torture. He hated to admit that he did like the country, despite its King. Crocodile watched in amazement as both humans and toys collided together as couples, family and friends. It was very strange to see such happenings but Crocodile simply brushed the very thing off and away. It did not concern him, he did not care.

Inside the palace, Crocodile was placed in a room and was told to get comfortable before coming to the kitchen. What was up with this family? Hey give him food, clothes, beyond decent treatment and now a room to stay in. What the flying fuck was swimming through their brains tossing rainbows and peace signs wherever it went. They make no sense. Crocodile thought to himself as he sat down on the bed. It was sturdy, not broken or cheap but untouched and reliable. It felt nice to be able to sleep on an actual bed then in a Crow's Nest, the one time in Doflamingo's room on the ship did not count. Crocodile just wanted to curl up into himself, rest his head upon the pillow and then pull the blankets over his body and never be known to the world again. Personally, Crocodile thought it was a very good plan but alas, he was needed in the kitchen.

Crocodile grunted slightly as he pushed himself up and fixed the bed back to what it originally looked like and walked out the door to the kitchen. Crocodile noticed a big sheet of paper on the wall a little ways off. Crocodile closed his do or and walked towards the sign. Kitchen - Meeting Room -. What the hell is this? Crocodile thought to himself. It was idiotic, where these signs here before. Crocodile didn't remember seeing the signs on his way to his room. The slave shrugged it off and walked in the direction of the kitchen, in the mood to take chances.

The hallway was long and fancy, perfect for the abode of the King of the country. Crocodile walked until he came upon more signs. One sign said "Kitchen" and it was plastered on a very tall yet old looking door. Even Crocodile's nose confirmed that simple fact as he could smell onions and meat roasting. So he walked in, cautious at first, in case the sign lied, but the sign did not lie and this room was indeed the kitchen. A woman with green hair and a slender frame was casually dicing onions into tiny cubes until she set down the knife and acknowledged Crocodile's rather awkward existence.

"You," she paused to wipe her strange glasses "must be Crocodile." Once Crocodile nodded, she began again. "I'm Monet. I usually work in the kitchen."

Crocodile nodded, not in the mood to talk to a woman with a knife near her. The young slave had been known to upset the ladies.

Monet simply smiled and held her hand out towards a space where there was already a cutting board and a huge pound of roasted meat with a cutting knife. Crocodile walked to his space while Monet walked back to hers.

"I hear your quite spirited. The young master seems to have taken a liking to you." Monet said absentmindedly. Crocodile wasn't one for small talk but he wasn't one for kitchen murder either.

"Call it what you wish." Crocodile replied back without a care.

"Explains why you haven't jumped yet." Okay, this family was fucked up inside out, top to bottom.

Crocodile slammed the knife down so it sliced through the roasted meat and made a dent in the cutting board. Oops. Monet seemed to notice and gave a small chuckle as she placed her diced onions on an empty plate.

"Oh my." The woman began. "I do believe that we have run out of carrots."

"Carrots?" Crocodile questioned and looked back to see Monet scavenging through cupboards.

"Yes, we are trying to get Baby 5 to eat more vegetables." Monet explained.

"Oh?" Crocodile went back to cutting through the roasted meat although much more slowly; just I case Monet wanted to ask him to get carrots or something.

"Crocodile, would you mind going out and getting some carrots?" Monet asked, already writing something things down on a spare piece of paper. "I'd do it myself but then the food wouldn't get very far."

"Sure. It's just... I just got here and I don't know my way around this place." Crocodile muttered. He wasn't trying to get out of it or anything, he just spoke the truth.

Monet finished her scribbling and held out a small piece of paper with neat handwriting on it out toward Crocodile. "Directions." She smiled and handed him a few Belli. "And money for the carrots."

Crocodile took the paper and the money and shoved it in the pocket of the black shorts Doflamingo had so kindly given to him several days ago. "Carrots are the vegetable that are orange and have green stuff near the end right?" He had no idea what a carrot was. Well, he did, he just wanted to clarify.

"Indeed." Monet said, adjusting her hypnotizing glasses with a smile. "Those are carrots."

Crocodile nodded and walked out the door, taking out the piece of paper with the directions on it and walked in the wrong direction for the door.

"He's going to get eaten alive."

Crocodile had finally found the exit and opened the door to see the outside world. It was hit with clear open streets that were filled to the brim with people and toys. The slip of paper said Market Avenue and that was it. Although it was pretty self-explanatory. Dressrosa had every kind of street with the most obvious names; Lover's Lane being one of many.

The young boy managed to find a street marker that had Market Avenue and walked down the crowded lanes. There were many street vendors, each selling a different product. There was a vendor for female appliances, fruits, fish, toy fixing, male appliances and vegetables. Crocodile walked up to the table with vegetables and requested a carrot which was plopped in his prosthetic and then the street vendor held out his hand for the Belli and Crocodile tugged it out from the depths of his pocket.

"Sorry kid but you're a few Belli off." The street vendor replied, handing back the money and keeping his hand out for the carrot Crocodile had in his hand. Crocodile looked at the tag below the boxes of carrots on the street vendor's table and looked at the Belli he had received from Monet. Crocodile muttered something and held up a finger for the street vendor to wait and stuffed the Belli back in his pocket and lingered a moment, pretending to be searching for more cash. Once a few seconds more than necessary before clutching his fist and holding it out before the street vendor, wrist up. But instead of money, Crocodile held up his middle finger and ran off once the carrot was in his functioning hand.

"STOP! Thief! Get back here, kid!" The street vendor screaming after him, chasing him after putting a small tablecloth over his vegetables and placing a Closed sign on the edge of the table in front of the covered boxes of vegetables.

Crocodile ran as fast as he could while gripping onto the carrot in his hand as hard as he could. Hopefully the slave could outrun the street vendor by sticking to the alleys. Of course the risk escalated to even higher levels as the alleys were closed off and Crocodile had no idea where the fuck he was going. With a quick glance behind him, Crocodile could see the street vendor hot on his tail. Well, fuck you old man! Crocodile thought quickly before deciding to stick to the open streets instead of the alleys. He ran even faster and forced his tired legs to carry him farther, as far as the palace where Monet was waiting for him with the carrot.

Crocodile noticed a couple walking with some space around them that separated them from from the rest of the crowd. He could pull the slip and get away if he could just reach that couple!

No, no of course that wouldn't happen. Because who in the right fucking mind would side with the poor slave? Hah! What a laugh.

Crocodile's movements were halted with a painful tug of his hair. "Caught you, you street rat!" The vendor said in triumph, grabbing another fistful of his hair when the other ones were being pulled out from Crocodile's head as he insisted on trying to get away from the man. "Honestly, you think I don't see a slave when I see one?! The vendor started, tugging on Crocodile's hair to get him to go in the direction the vendor wanted. "I'm glad people thought of that Celestial Hoof or else I might've actually taken pity on you!"

Oh, so he was one of those people; the assholes who clearly don't care about other human beings who have been sold of to complete strangers. Yeah, this man could just take the express-way to Hell please and thank you.

Crocodile attempted to kick the vendor's legs, better yet his dick, but to no avail. Crocodile was trying to hard not to concentrate on the pain his head was experiencing. Dressrosa was a great place! Such friendly neighbors and caring people. Someone just kill me outta you're gonna die tonight! Amazing.

Once the street vendor finally arrived at Market Avenue and stopped before his street stand, Crocodile managed to hear a gasp through his venting. He was dropped into the ground and earned a kick from the street vendor. "You filthy rat! Because I wasted my time on you, all of my vegetables are gone! You planned this didn't you! You damn rat!" The street vendor vented his frustration of losing his precious vegetables by kicking and stomping the poor boy all over. His face was bleeding, his bones probably broken or at least dislocated and his body in so much pain. But no matter what happened, Crocodile refused to let go of the carrot, his nails dug deep into the dirty surface and they refused to climb back up and out of the carrot.

Once the street vendor had had enough he picked Crocodile up by his tank-top and flung him in a random direction, not looking not caring where he went or what happened to him. Crocodile rolled and rolled, each part of his broken and bloody body made contact with the cement of the street before making contact with something else.

The boy heard a laugh and that goddamn voice. He groaned. "Geez Croco, didn't know it took so long to run an errand."

Crocodile opened one eye and glanced up before swearing. "Damn...flamingo.." He murmured.

Doflamingo chuckled before looking at the street vendor. "I do so apologize for whatever trouble my slave here had caused. You see, he's a bit new to Dressrosa."

The street vendor shook his head and held up his hands. "No, no. No trouble here, sir! I had no idea he was yours. I'm so sor-"

Before the man could even finish, a strange noise that resembled cutting through some sort of material was heard and a soft thump soon after. "Monet." Oh, so she was there too.

Crocodile attempted to get up many times by his body hurt all over and he couldn't help but fail. The young boy felt himself being lifted up and soon his head met with a combination of soft feathers and smooth fabric. He was being carried.

"Let go... I...can walk on...my own." Crocodile tried, clawing at Doflamingo's shirt.

"Not a chance."

Crocodile mumbled something in frustration and looked back to see Monet disposing of what looking to be a head and a body. Oh, so Doflamingo killed the man. Okay. Honestly, with what the street vendor had said to him, Crocodile was glad he was dead. He closed his eyes quickly once Monet was done and was walking back toward Doflamingo and the pathetic Crocodile.

"Sorry Crocodile. I suppose I miscounted the Belli." Monet said, but one could tell there was a smile behind her apology.

But Crocodile was already out like a light. The day was heavy on him and the the country was cruel to him. Of course this treatment isn't anything out of the usual for a slave but sometimes, it was just to cruel to treat one of the same species with such vile actions.

When Crocodile finally opened his eyes his ears were immediately turned deaf.

"He's awake!" Crocodile heard Baby 5 scream from the bedside.

Crocodile mumbled a fine string of curses as he could hear the door open and close. People crowded around the bed and Crocodile met them all eye to eye except for the flamingo sitting at the foot of the bed. He couldn't meet his eyes.

Many of the people soon left and the two that remained were Baby 5, much to Buffalo's distaste, and Doflamingo, much to Crocodile's distaste.

Crocodile answered many of Baby 5's questions and tried to calm her down when she got over-emotional. "You know, I really did need you back there." Crocodile said at one point, recalling that she loves being needed by someone, even a total stranger.

"Y-you did?" Baby 5 blushed and held one hand on her cheek and the other waving off Crocodile's simple comment.

"Of course. Who wouldn't need such a strong, reliable and courageous young lady like you?" Crocodile almost sighed in relief as Baby 5 stopped fretting over his minor injuries.

Doflamingo chuckled quietly at how Crocodile turned the situation in his favor. He let their small talk carry on for a few more moments before standing and motioning for Baby 5 to stop her meaningless conversation and let Crocodile get some much needed sleep.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" Baby 5 whispered to Doflamingo, much to Crocodile's annoyance because he could still hear her.

"Let me check. You just wait outside the door and I'll be a moment." Doflamingo grinned, holding the door open for the small girl to walk through. Once she did, Doflamingo closed said door and made his way to Crocodile who was expecting the very worse.

Doflamingo stood there by the bedside for a few moments with that damned smirk plastered on his face before he leaning down and pecked Crocodile's bruised lips before leaning next to his ear. "You know, as much as I would absolutely love to fuck you on this bed here and now, I'm afraid you need some sleep and some time to recover so you better do that. No snooping around or getting out of this bed."

Doflamingo didn't even wait for an answer as Crocodile's tomato red face was an answer enough. With his hand on the door knob, the door was opened and Dodlamingo was walking out to join Baby 5.

"ROT IN HELL YOU FUCKING FLAMINGO!"

"Oh, he'll be fine." Doflamingo said with a grin to Baby 5, shutting the door to Crocodile's room.


End file.
